


You Make Me (Feel)

by explicitones



Category: Naruto
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon Rewrite, Coming of Age, First Time, Identity Porn, Loss of Identity, M/M, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Post-Fourth Shinobi War, Romance, This is borderline crack, gender fluidity, missed connections sasunaru blink and you'll miss it, stupid boys being boys, you can't make me watch boruto
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:34:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23907769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/explicitones/pseuds/explicitones
Summary: The thing aboutthisis, there’s an art to it maybe, where good technique and bad application and vice versa matter—but Naruto knows at his very core, it doesn’t take much, a heavy dose of pheromones and modest attraction, for basic animal instinct to kick in.In which Kakashi teaches Naruto a thing or two about the art of seduction.
Relationships: Hatake Kakashi/Uzumaki Naruto, Nara Shikamaru/Temari, Uchiha Sasuke & Uzumaki Naruto
Comments: 47
Kudos: 390





	1. Guide to Shinobi Espionage (A lesson on seduction)

**Author's Note:**

> So I was thinking, most ninjas in the Naruto universe are probably trained in various disciplines for ~~sexpionage~~ espionage, and I just couldn’t get it out of my head that Naruto might have to undergo a mission where he leverages his Sexy Jutsu. Based on canon, we know the technique was pretty effective on characters like Sandaime, Ebisu, cough!Kaguya!cough, and others. Hence, this story was born. 
> 
> Also, idk, this was supposed to be a short PWP but then it developed a mind of its own, and not only is there now plot but emotions too lol. This will probably be 2-3 parts. 
> 
> Anyway, please enjoy~

The world is at peace, but there are still missions, funny that. Naruto has been home for all of two hours—having spent a week on the border of Suna, liasing with the smaller, neighboring villages and assisting in repair efforts—when he receives word from the Hokage’s office that he's been summoned for another.

It’s been over a year since the war; the war that laid waste to great countries and small villages alike, decimating populations. The aftermath is desolate, despite their victory, a painstakingly slow return to normalcy, stunted by the knowledge that things will never quite be like it was again.

As shinobi, peace is cause for restlessness, an aching, yearning that even Naruto, for all his efforts and sacrifice in the war, feels on a good day. Sighing, Naruto pulls on a fresh shirt, dressing quickly. His hair is still wet from washing the sand out of it—sand gets absolutely _everywhere_ —and he notes the time, calculates in his head whether he’ll make it in the next ten minutes. They hardly gave him a moment’s notice, but Pakkun was the one who’d delivered the message—a personal request from the Hokage—and Naruto knows Kakashi-sensei wouldn’t have sent for him unless it were urgent.

He takes an old shortcut to the office, proving his days of pranks and tricks weren’t entirely useless—he’d had to learn the village inside-out to make those quick getaways.

Shikamaru meets him in the lobby, greeting him with a friendly clap on the shoulder.

“Sorry for the short notice, I know you just got back,” he says as they make their way down the hall to the main suite.

Naruto shrugs, “Ah it’s fine, ramen's on you.”

Shikamaru smirks, “Heh, fair enough, you can hold me to it. Alright, let me brief you—as you know, we just wrapped the monthly kage summit. During the gathering, a report came onto our radar that was a bit concerning; there’s been some suspicious activity in the outskirts of Fire country, illegal production and trade of weapons.”

“Weapons?” Naruto asks, mimes throwing a kunai.

“Of mass destruction,” Shikamaru clarifies, “Some small-time criminals near Ame discovered a way to mechanize forbidden techniques—all you need to operate is a decent handle on chakra control. And this is being shopped to revolutionists—shinobi of old who can’t seem to come to terms with the newfound peace in our world.”

Naruto’s stomach flip-flops at the comment, dread filling his lungs. So the rumors have been true. “What level of threat are we talking here, Shikamaru?”

“With the sole title to these weapons, they’re easily S-rank. Our mission is to collect information on the production blueprints; trade deals—where they’re happening, when they’re happening and with whom. But if we get caught, Naruto, the consequences could be deadly. These weapons aren’t to be taken lightly, they make Deidara’s bombs look like childsplay.”

Shikamaru pushes open the door to the Hokage’s office, nodding in greeting to the people convened inside. Kakashi, Gaara and Temari are seated by the desk, heads bent in conversation. Someone must’ve made the order to add some additional seating—it suggests they might be here awhile. Naruto's gaze settles on his former sensei, who looks unlike his usual, laidback self. His brows are furrowed, and Naruto can just make out the outlines of a frown beneath his mask. It looks as if they’ve been strategizing for a while now.

Gaara glances up at their entrance and stands. “Naruto,” he addresses with a hint of a smile. Naruto returns his smile, casting a large grin at his old friend. “It’s good to see you here, Gaara, Temari. Though I imagine it might not be under the best circumstances.”

“Naruto,” Kakashi greets, and Naruto doesn’t miss the momentary relief in his sensei’s eyes. “Welcome back.” Naruto nods, “Thanks, good to see you returned safely yourself.”

The air feels solemn and it drains him of his usual cheer. He’s a lot better at reading the room these days; his younger self would’ve blown by the introductions, eager for another mission, another opportunity to prove himself, completely oblivious to the situation.

“Kakashi-sensei,” he says, “Shikamaru caught me up on the way here. How can I help?”

“Yes, that...well, these arms dealers are operating somewhere between the Fire and Wind countries so the Union tasked Konoha and Suna with resolving this quietly.” Kakashi gestures at three photos laid cleanly on the table. “These three are the key players behind the operation,” he explains, pointing at the center photo, “This is the leader, Zinan—he’s the focus of your mission. The other two, Takeo and Kuni are his right-hand-man and trade specialist, respectively. Our primary goal is to lift as much information from them as we can about the arms trade. Gaara and I have created an opportunity to meet them by extending an invite from our collective villages.”

“And they agreed?” Naruto asks, skeptical.

Temari chimes in, “They may have manufactured some of the deadliest weapons to-date, but they’re still men, and they’re not immune to their egos. Our invitation is a brazen acknowledgment of their pride and joy—they’re suspicious, but they won’t pass up an opportunity to talk business with two major seats in the Shinobi Union.”

“You mean they think they’ll be able to talk Konoha and Suna into a weapons deal?”

Temari shrugs, lips quirked sardonically, “Hubris makes people do stupid things.”

“Anyways,” Shikamaru follows, “they’ve accepted the invitation and will arrive in Konoha in three days. The Hokage and Kazekage will host them, under the guise of mutual interest in expanding our countries’ defense unit. It’s a convincing enough story that outwardly we merely appear to be vested in national security, rather than playing Union deserters. We’re trying to avoid setting off any alarm bells here. Temari and myself will reprise our usual roles, as advisors to the kages. Naruto, you’ll be assigned to Kakashi as his personal bodyguard and doubling as local guide for our visitors.” He hesitates here, sharing a look with the others and appears almost nervous.

Kakashi catches Naruto’s gaze, tilting his head in a yielding sort of way, as if accepting a decision yet to be made. “We’ve discussed our method of attack, so to speak. This is purely an investigative mission...however, should things go wrong, we need someone with the sheer strength to overpower one of these machines. If, worst-case scenario, they end up attacking our village in retaliation.” He hesitates, once again looking at Naruto but somehow avoiding his eyes, “Naruto, we need you to take an alias during this mission.”

Kakashi-sensei is nothing if not cryptic and it takes Naruto a moment before the request dawns on him. "You mean, like my Oiroke no jutsu?” he asks.

This time the Hokage does avert his gaze when he replies, “A version of it, yes. The intention of this is two-fold: first, we can’t have you show up as yourself because you’re a famous figure these days, and second, we’re aware Zinan is somewhat of a promiscuous character, well-known among the local brothels, with a great affinity for attractive women…” he trails off, hesitating for a moment before collecting himself. “Your mission is to seduce Zinan, leveraging your technique—a refined version of it—play to his ego and collect information about his underground operation.”

Kurama chooses that moment to speak up, before Naruto can give his reply, “Kid, you don’t know a damn thing about seduction. Your first and only kiss was with Sasuke.”

“Oh can it,” Naruto huffs inside his head, and he can hear Kurama chuckle, a deep, hollow sound filled with amusement. “Suit yourself, brat, but know I’m not planning on participating, even if we are on friendly terms these days. That’s not the kind of action I’m looking for.”

He mentally curses at Kurama and at the faint blush he knows is painting his cheeks. “I can do it,” he states, firm. “I may need some, uh, help practicing, but I can do it.”

No one says anything for a few moments, letting the awkwardness pass between them until it seems perfectly normal, what they’re planning to do.

“Well,” Kakashi says eventually, looking, in a rare moment, uncertain, “we have three days.”

**+++**

They spend the next couple of hours mapping out a plan, generating a script. At some point, deep in strategizing their method of approach and ironing out even the minute details, Naruto asks, "Uh, so who's training me exactly…?" 

He may be a jounin now, but he's hardly at Anbu-level of covert operations. The Oiroke no jutsu is an effective technique, sure; it stood up even against Otsutsuki Kaguya during the fourth war, but at best it’s a shock tactic, meant to deflect the enemy's attention for brief windows of opportunity. This is an entirely different situation. Naruto's so used to being himself, giving speeches on his Ninja way and finding connections with the worst of foes, even he recognizes that's hardly sustainable in a reconnaissance mission.

“Ah...good question,” Kakashi hums. “It’s your choice, ultimately. We recognize this is no small undertaking—you’ll be scrubbing yourself of your personality, adapting characteristics deliberately for the duration of the assignment. You may...be subjected to unpleasant conditions—and that’s...” he trails off, looking at Naruto as if trying to read him, “We can pull anyone from Anbu to help you prepare. Or, I can train you myself. My personal opinion is you should work with someone you trust, but. Maa...that’s just my selfish opinion, anyway.”

Quietly, he recollects the period he spent learning chakra states, modifying his Rasengan, and how his two teachers at the time had teamed up to help him. He’s not exactly sure how _that’ll_ work this time around.

“Someone I trust?” he asks and hears how naive it sounds once it’s out there.

“Right,” Kakashi nods, “Ultimately your goal is to use extreme means to extract valuable information from the enemy. In the same way you’ve used your technique to distract opponents, you’ll need to resort to various diversions to keep the mission on track. I’m skirting the obvious here, Naruto, but to train yourself on these diversions with someone else requires a bit of commitment; it needs to feel natural to you. For some, this is easier to accomplish with a stranger, for others, familiarity is key to establishing the setting. As you might expect, there are pitfalls to each. The question is, which would you rather prefer?”

A stranger feels explicit, like a task—which is fitting given the circumstances—but the notion leaves a bad taste in his mouth; he’s sexually inexperienced, but he’s not oblivious. Traveling with Jiraiya all that time in his youth, privy to ero-sennin’s nighttime activities and an occasional muse for his _Icha Icha_ novels, Naruto knows this involves a certain degree of vulnerability, a library of emotions and insecurities he hasn’t even tapped into yet, and he’s not entirely sure he wants to share that with just anybody.

“I want to be respectful of your time, Kakashi-sensei,” he says carefully, “but if there’s time to spare...I’d rather it were you.”

“Alright,” Kakashi simply responds, “We’ll start tonight.”

They wrap for dinner sometime after the sun sets—Konoha summers are known for long days so it’s already well into the evening. The two kages stay behind to transmit their now fully-formed plan to the rest of the Union.

“Report to the Hokage residence in a couple hours,” Kakashi reminds him, attention turned to the mounting paperwork before him, and Naruto knows that’s a kindness, treating this with muted disregard, like issuing a D-rank mission to recover a lost cat.

“Come on,” Shikamaru says, throwing a comforting arm around Naruto’s shoulders, “Let’s get you some ramen. Temari, you coming?”

**+++**

He arrives at the Hokage residence just a quarter past the hour. It’s an unassuming building, rebuilt in the aftermath of Pain’s assault. He’s only been here a handful of times, but it doesn’t feel unfamiliar.

Kakashi ushers him in, and it’s odd Naruto thinks; he’d spent a good deal of his genin days pondering what his sensei’s face looked like beneath the mask and now to see it bare in his teacher’s home feels unwarranted. Squaring his shoulders, Naruto follows Kakashi to the living room, taking a seat beside him on the sofa.

“Relax,” Kakashi tells him and it’s only then Naruto realizes he’s had his hands clenched into fists, sitting stiffly for minutes.

“First, let’s get any discomfort out of the way. Feel free to stop me at any point to ask questions. Our objective consists primarily of basic infiltration and diversion tactics—making yourself presentable, facilitating conversation—pivoting subjects when applicable—and mastering a degree of physical seduction. The latter means you’ll need to develop some mastery over your body—react to touch and arousal without your fighting instincts kicking in. Tonight, we’ll start with that.”

Naruto’s face must betray some kind of untoward emotion because Kakashi continues to say, “We—I wouldn’t ask you to do this if I weren’t confident in your ability to maneuver your way out of extreme circumstances.” He settles a hand on Naruto’s right arm, the experimental one crafted from Shodai’s cells, where bandages meet skin.

“Did you have to learn this too, when you were in the Anbu?” Naruto asks, if only to distract himself from the shiver that runs up his spine.

“Yes,” Kakashi confirms, “It’s a necessary skill, beyond physical strength. Often, you’re manipulating people’s emotions, drawing out their basest desires in exchange for valuable intel. It’s highly effective.”

How cruel, Naruto thinks, _you were just a kid_.

“Ah,” Kakashi murmurs and Naruto realizes he's voiced that latter half out loud. “It’s a part of being a ninja, no? We make sacrifices in order to protect the village and the ones we hold dear. But it gets better with every new generation.”

_Right_ , it’s likely that only a few of Naruto’s generation would've been exposed to this sort of training. Even this is under special circumstances. At eighteen, Naruto is mature enough, mentally and physically equipped to navigate the gravity of the work ahead of him.

“Right,” he says, resolute, and forms the signs for his transformation jutsu. Moments later he’s sporting the telltale pigtails of his oldest disguise, showing off curves in places they weren’t before. “Teach me.”

Kakashi blinks at him once, twice, before a soft, reassuring smile spreads on his face. “I hear Zinan prefers redheads, but I think blondes are cuter.” It’s meant to diffuse the situation, but Naruto’s laugh dies on his lips when Kakashi presses a palm to the nape of his neck, fingers threading gently in his hair.

“Here, place your hand on my chest, light pressure—not to push away, but encourage. Show the other party you’re interested and fine to proceed,” Kakashi directs, as if doling out the instructions for a release seal.

Naruto does as instructed, pressing naturally into Kakashi’s touch with the movement. Kakashi raises his other hand to cup Naruto’s cheek. “Remember to lose these next time,” he murmurs, stroking presumably where one of Naruto’s whisker marks sits, stark against his skin. It feels like a caress.

“Noted,” he manages, feeling Kakashi’s breath ghost over his lips, his face a blur in their proximity.

Naruto has spent the odd night up wondering about this. What it feels like to kiss, or be kissed by someone with intent. Since puberty, there was hardly any time to strike up a romance, between war and recovery, missions and his exams, he’d always just assumed one day there would be an opportunity. At twelve, he’d thought about Sakura, with her blush-pink hair and bright green eyes, the slow way her lips curved into a smile and what it would be like to kiss it. At seventeen, it was Hinata who caught his eye anew, shy and soft-spoken Hinata, with her sweet, gentle smile directed solely at him, pale eyes reflecting the moon—and it’d never occurred to him until then, what it might be like to bring her warmth in close, comb his fingers through her long, black hair. And, the forgotten moments—somewhere between thirteen and fourteen—when he’d wake with a start in the middle of the night, mind blank save for a clash of teeth and the taste of, a hint of, sweet-tang on his lips.

When Kakashi kisses him, it’s slow and languid, licking heat into his mouth with a sweep of his tongue, sharp teeth nipping at his lower lip. The moan that slips from Naruto’s mouth is wanton, foreign to his own ears. Hearing him—definitely, positively hearing him—Kakashi slips a hand up under Naruto’s shirt to cup a full, heavy breast. His hand is rough and calloused, warm on (her) sensitive skin, and the sharp tug of arousal that hits Naruto is electrifying, heat pooling between his legs. No one has touched him like this before.

His transformation goes in a puff of smoke.

“Sorry, um—” he fumbles, clumsily moving to form the hand signs for the technique again, but Kakashi catches his wrist in a firm hold, stopping him in his tracks. His hand on Naruto’s chest pushes him back against the length of the sofa, and Kakashi moves with him. Then, Naruto feels him, pressed against his thigh, impossibly hard and—

“It’s fine.”

Naruto doesn’t have to look to verify for himself, he’s hard too.

“Relax,” Kakashi coaxes, “Practice kissing me.”

Tentatively, Naruto obliges, tugging at Kakashi’s vest to reel him closer and tilting his chin up to slot his lips against his. He experiments with the kiss, mimicking what the gray-haired man had done earlier, reaches up his free hand and cards his fingers through Kakashi’s hair. The thing about _this_ is, there’s an art to it maybe, where good technique and bad application and vice versa matter—but Naruto knows at his very core, it doesn’t take much, a heavy dose of pheromones and modest attraction, for basic animal instinct to kick in.

They break for a breath, panting softly into the silence. While he breathes, Kakashi slides the hem of Naruto’s shirt up to his collarbone, tweaking an exposed nipple and pebbling it between his forefinger and thumb. Like this (as a male), Naruto doesn’t feel as sensitive, but it still draws a curse from his lips, arches his spine into the touch.

“Clear your head,” Kakashi chides, “Stay in control, don’t lose focus.”

“ _Fuck,_ easier said than done,” Naruto hisses and the flick to his nipple is almost punishing.

Just as he’s caught his breath, Kakashi noses at a sensitive spot by his jugular, bites and sucks a mark there. Naruto can feel his erection straining against the fabric of his pants, untouched, and chokes down a _Please_.

“Can you manage your transformation technique again?” Kakashi asks then, braced above Naruto, one hand still pinning Naruto’s wrist. The way Kakashi slots a knee in between Naruto’s legs feels dangerously close to restraint—with how much Naruto wants to press, grind down against that limb, find purchase in the friction.

“Y-yeah,” Naruto replies, watery. “Need this back,” he says, inclining his head at his left hand.

“Right,” Kakashi mumbles, half to himself, as if he just realized it now. The bruise it leaves behind would last a few days on most, though Naruto knows it’ll be gone by dawn.

He forms the hand seals, transforming back into his female counterpart and Kakashi presses a soft, lingering kiss to his bare cheek, the corner of his lips. “Good listening,” he praises, and Naruto brims with pride.

They exchange kisses again, lazy, slow, Naruto can barely recall why they’re here. All he knows is there’s warmth pooling between his legs again, little sparks of electricity that feel too close to pleasure, paced in uneven intervals—the sound of a zipper, his, coming undone and Kakashi’s hand between his legs, a finger slipping into his wet heat, with little give.

“Oh,” he whimpers, at a loss for words, and he hears himself beg in a voice that’s not his own, soft keens interspersed with desperate gasps of air, and it just makes him wetter.

He loses his pants at some point, or rather, they were tangled around his legs and Kakashi helpfully removed them for him. The older man has two fingers in him now, scissoring, pulsing, thrusting into him with them, and all Naruto can think is _more_.

“Three?” Kakashi asks, in his light, teasing tone, and if Naruto wasn’t so preoccupied with _Yes, please, god_ , _don’t stop_ , he’d have snapped his teeth at him. He barely manages a curt nod.

“What’s your mission?” Kakashi asks, teasing the tip of his third finger, tracing soft circles at the entrance.

“To gather intel on the illegal arms trade,” Naruto grits out, and if the tail-end of it comes out as a whine, well tough, there’s still tomorrow.

“What are the names of our key players?”

“Zinan, Takeo, and K-Kinu. Zinan is our operation leader, the other two are his right-hand-man and trade specialist.”

Kakashi hums in approval, or maybe it’s appreciation, and he does something with his thumb, rubbing circles on that incredible place below as he presses a third finger into Naruto—and the sparks of electricity return with a staggering, indescribable sensation budding at his very core—a fingertip’s breadth away.

Naruto glances up at Kakashi and his breath catches at the sight. The Rokudaime’s expression is a mix of awe and admiration, eyes bright with desire and cheeks tinged pink from their exertion. He looks utterly wrecked and still so composed, _handsome_ , and Naruto wonders, _what must I look like_ , just as—

Kakashi pulls back, withdrawing his fingers abruptly and settling his hand in a tight grip on Naruto’s hip, as if grounding himself. “Wha—” Naruto tries to ask, doesn’t even know what he’s asking for.

With a wry smile and hooded eyes, Kakashi supplies, “You were lost in the moment. Your role is to maintain control of your surroundings at all times. You need to be able to divert the situation when you’re no longer in control.”

_Oh_ he thinks, mind reeling-reeling before finally catching up to the moment. His body is on fire, and if he had any decency left he’d make an effort to cover himself up. But he doesn’t and Kakashi is silently observing him now, watching him tremble, vulnerable and exposed, and it’s clear, this is where he draws the line.

**+++**

He washes up in Kakashi’s bathroom, immersing himself beneath the spray of scalding, hot water. The scene replays in his mind, over and over, and he doesn’t know whether to be horrified or hard (though his body has no qualms in making that choice for him). He takes himself in hand—quick, practiced strokes that he knows will get him there fast enough, quiet enough, and comes with a muffled groan, lips pressed into the crook of his arm.

He dries himself off quickly, shrugging back into his clothes. It feels almost unjust, but he’s tired, drained actually—it feels like ages ago, but he reminds himself that he’s only just returned from the last mission—and he wants to go home, curl up under the covers and forget the look on his teacher’s face, like fondness and desire and everything Naruto’s craved since he was little.

When he steps out into the hall, Kakashi is waiting for him, leaning against the banister. He has a smaller towel in his hand, and when he sees Naruto emerge, he walks over to him, completely unaffected, bored almost, and places it on top of Naruto’s head. “The breeze is strong tonight,” Kakashi explains, massaging the towel gently into Naruto’s hair, drying it, “You’ll catch cold if you go out with damp hair.” The gesture makes him feel like a child, as if he’s being cared for and it takes all his willpower not to cry—of all the things, he didn’t realize he’d be so damn emotional about this—because it feels, somehow, a little like rejection.

“There we go,” Kakashi says, finishing the last of his tips. He settles a hand on Naruto’s head, ruffling his hair in a familiar fashion, though Naruto is taller now, older. “You can go home now.”

“Right,” Naruto mumbles, averting his gaze. “Yeah, I’ll um, see you tomorrow…” he trails off on the question, hates himself for sounding so uncertain.

“We’ll work on dialogue tomorrow,” Kakashi offers helpfully, “Let's meet by our old training grounds. It’s been a while since we ventured out there, anyway. I have some things to attend to during the day so let’s meet in the evening, around 7.”

“Okay,” Naruto says, “Yeah, I’ll uh,” he gestures down towards the entrance, “I’ll head out now.”

Without looking back, he heads for the stairs, calls out a hurried, “Good night, Kakashi-sensei!”

“Ah,” he hears Kakashi say, “Good night.”

  
  


**+++**

  
  


Konoha is a blistering, sweltering heat during the day. Naruto wakes up mid-morning, bleary-eyed, sweating through his shirt, and promptly falls back asleep. The next time he wakes, it’s well into the afternoon and his stomach is protesting loudly, urging him to eat something.

It’s been awhile since he made a trip to the grocery store and his cupboards are near empty, the fridge bare. He ventures outside in a sleeveless tank and shorts and it still feels too hot, with the sun beating down from high, amidst clear skies.

He has nothing planned for the day (until the evening, at least). The week following a longer mission is usually like this—a clear schedule, a chance to recoup in case of injuries and resume life in the town. It’s maybe more for shinobi with families to tend to, pressing errands to catch up on. He picks up a bento box from the convenience store nearby, and as an after thought, grabs a popsicle from the ice cream freezer.

Naruto eats his popsicle absentmindedly, ambling his way towards the village entrance and making his way into the forest. Sometimes he forgets where he made the memorial, but with enough retracing and checking his surroundings, he’s able to find it. There, shaded beneath the branches of the old beech tree.

He plops down on the far side of the tree, leaning back against the sturdy trunk. “I think,” Naruto says, “this was the premise to one of your novel ideas. It was scrapped, obviously. I imagine most people don’t really care to read about some poor fool’s struggle to lose their virginity, to their former teacher no less.” He scrunches his nose, regardless how you put it, that still sounds weird spoken out loud.

He breaks into his food, chewing thoughtfully on his rice. No one’s ever schooled him on the span of emotions associated with sex, anyway. For all he’s spent with Jiraiya—purveyor of soft porn novels—and Kakashi—consumer of said soft porn—there’s sure a lot he hadn’t expected. And he hadn’t even done anything particularly conclusive.

Deep in thought, he misses the soft rustle of leaves, gentle breeze in the trees. “Naruto.”

He startles, jerking his head up to glimpse the approaching figure. It’s unmistakable. “Oi, you surprised me Sasuke-teme! What’re you doing here?”

“I was looking for you,” is the man's deadpan answer. It’s been almost a year since he saw Sasuke last, and of course this is how the other man greets him, entirely unannounced, without flair or introduction.

“But, what’re you doing here?” Naruto repeats, doesn’t ask, _Are you home for good?_

“Kakashi sent for me,” He says, simple and still without much explanation. But he adjusts his cloak nimbly and makes himself comfortable on the ground beside Naruto. “They want me in reserve in case something unforeseen happens,” he states finally, staring faroff into the depths of the forest. Damn, Naruto thinks, all these years and an arm later, and he still manages to look cool.

When the war ended, Sasuke left as abruptly as he came, a pardoned criminal with a storied past—too much baggage, too soon, for a healing village to welcome home. And Naruto had given him his hitai-ate, a promise, _when_ unspoken between their last exchange. Since then, Sasuke has taken to the dark, Konoha’s own shadow protector. A quiet, powerful force, dissolving gnarly affairs and rogue uprisings before they find footing—without thanks, without acknowledgment. Somehow, he’d ended up following in his brother’s footsteps, without really trying at all.

“So you’ve been briefed,” Naruto hedges, hopes desperately that the warmth on his cheeks is from the heat.

“More or less,” Sasuke says, with his trademark smirk, but he doesn’t push or tease. “There’s a rogue congregation outside the village. They’ve secured a contract with Zinan and his lot, and are sealing the deal just before your event. With you and the others engaged in the meeting, someone needs to secure the borders.”

“Ah, then, you won’t be staying?”

Sasuke looks at him from the corner of his eye, shrugs. “I was reporting to Kakashi on the mission, I’m on my way out.”

“You won’t visit Sakura? She’d be ecstatic to see you.”

“Maybe next time, Naruto,” Sasuke says, without his usual garnish—perhaps they’ve finally outgrown their name-calling. He digs into his pack, procuring a coral obi, and hands it to Naruto. 

“What?” Naruto asks, staring down at the silk-smooth fabric in his hands, tracing the seams of a white floral pattern.

“Brings out your eyes.”

**+++**

Sasuke left over two hours ago and it still feels a little like losing a limb. Of course, in his defense, Naruto did actually lose a limb over him.

Naruto returns home and stores the traditional sash for safekeeping. For all their scuffles and childhood rivalry, he knows there’s a history, a brotherhood they share that allows them to understand each other. In his own weird, subtle-quiet way—offering Naruto fashion advice for the mission, of all things—Sasuke is showing his support.

He grabs a quick dinner on his way back out, checking the time to see that he’ll arrive by 7. Kakashi still has a terrible habit of showing up late to things—though it’s improved considerably since he earned the title of Sixth Hokage—so Naruto doesn’t try too hard.

He’s been sitting atop one of the tree stumps in the clearing, swinging his legs, for over twenty minutes when the gray-haired man shows. “Yo,” he calls, “Sorry I encountered a lost dog on my way here and went looking for its owner.”

Naruto rolls his eyes—Kakashi has eight special ninja-hounds with fine-tuned tracking skills, the least he could’ve done is make up a believable story. He says as much out loud.

Kakashi grins sheepishly through his mask and Naruto tries not to flush at the sudden memory of sharp teeth.

“Well, let’s get into today’s lesson,” Kakashi chirps, “Yesterday we worked on acquainting your body with physical stimulation, we’ll need to hone your composure a bit more, but let’s table that for now. Right now, I want you to work on conversing.” He hops up on the stump adjacent to Naruto's, crouching low before settling himself. “When engaging, you want to show genuine curiosity towards the conversation. What would you say to me to hold my attention? How would you get me to talk more about myself?”

It sounds dangerously close to courting someone, Naruto thinks, an intimacy of sorts that he’s glimpsed from time-to-time, watching couples the next table over at dinner, mothers and fathers on a rare night out without their children, or Shikamaru and Temari when they think no one is watching.

“How was your day?” Naruto asks, and Kakashi nods. “Long,” he answers briefly, testing.

“Was it busy?” Naruto forges on, “Did you have a chance to eat?”

“Right.” Kakashi says, aside, “Yes, it was busy. I’ve been in meetings since dawn. The Kazekage and I had some additional concerns we needed to address regarding the active and upcoming weapons deals we already know about. When Zinan’s group arrives we’ll be preoccupied with discussions of a contract, and that leaves our borders exposed, potentially. In the event of a coordinated attack, we spent the day arranging shinobi assignments for the village border, Gaara as well for Suna.”

He doesn’t mention Sasuke.

“How do we know there are other deals upcoming?” Naruto poses, already knowing the answer.

Kakashi hesitates, tilting his head thoughtfully. “We’ve had a couple long-term assignments scouting the neighboring villages. They’ve been following one particular trail for a few months now, and we received confirmation today: the contract will be signed tomorrow, the day before Zinan’s lot arrives.”

“Do we know who those weapons are going to?”

“Not specifically, a community of disillusioned soldiers, maybe,” Kakashi answers, “but we have our man on it. He’ll be stationed there for the time being, in case a rebellion breaks out.”

“Just the one?” Naruto asks and he sees Kakashi’s eyes narrow, presses on, “Don’t these missions necessitate three or four man teams? The last time we infiltrated a rebellion, you sent Sai with ten men and that quickly turned sour. Are we sure we can trust that won’t happen again?”

Kakashi chuckles, “Naruto, you were doing well, but that’s coming on a little too strong. You need to give the other party time to ease into the conversation, lower their guard. If you push for too many answers, too soon, they’ll catch on you’re interrogating.”

“Right, um. Let’s backtrack a step—  
  
It’s a shame there are still people who seek violence in a time of peace—after all the effort you and ally leaders have invested to maintain it, you must be disappointed. I’m sure you’re exhausted from the day, and to have come straight here from work. Maybe you can tell me more on the way back into town. I can’t imagine it being particularly pleasant sitting here on an old tree stump when you could be relaxing in the comfort of your own home.”

Naruto sees the approval on his sensei’s face just before it registers in a smile, Kakashi looking all too smug for having just been sweet-talked into taking him home.

“Bingo.”

**+++**

The sun sets as they make their way back into the heart of the village, streaks of orange-pink-gold bleeding into the sky. They’re Naruto’s favorite kind, when the light scatters low on the horizon, forged against the dark silhouettes of trees and buildings.

Kakashi shows him a new shortcut back into town, following the river until it curves back towards the forest. Like this, he forgets Kakashi is the Rokudaime—after all, he was Naruto’s sensei first, and he was tardy most days, face buried in a copy of the latest _Icha Icha_ novel—apathetic (or, likely depressed), but so wildly influential. After all, the reputation precedes the title— _You don't become the Hokage to be acknowledged by everyone. The person who is acknowledged by everyone becomes the Hokage._

“Something on your mind, Naruto?”

He shakes his head, watching the last vestiges of sunlight disappear, fade into night. The sky is still incandescent, coated in a purple sheen, as far as the eye can see. He asks, “What was your first time like?” and feels Kakashi’s sharp gaze on him, contemplative.

“You were—you seemed like you knew what you were doing,” Naruto explains.

Kakashi laughs pleasantly, eyes crinkling in amusement. “I’m in my thirties, Naruto, I’m certainly no stranger to sex.”

Naruto shrugs, shoving his hands into his pockets, and mumbles, “I hadn’t even properly kissed anyone before.”

If Kakashi is surprised, he gives no indication. “My first time was on a mission, with a kunoichi from a warring state. I never learned her name. In my experience, there’s nothing to be gained from rushing into things, nor any loss for that matter. You determine the moments that mean something, and experience becomes just a number.”

“What does that even _mean_?” Naruto complains loudly and only receives laughter in return. “Don’t think too hard, Naruto, it’s not like you.”

He rolls his eyes, hedging a smile.

“Hey, we’re here.” Kakashi tells him, settling a hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay to proceed?” he checks.

“Yes,” Naruto confirms, leaning into the touch.

“Alright, let’s square off yesterday’s lesson before the night ends.”

_Right_ , lesson, Naruto tells himself—that’s what Kakashi-sensei views it as, and that’s how he should as well. _Don’t be stupid_.

He follows Kakashi into the residence and lets himself be pulled towards the staircase, up wooden stairs, looking curiously to the room at the end of the hall. Kakashi settles a hand on the small of his back, murmurs a soft, “Relax,” and it does wonders for his budding trepidation.

Kakashi’s bedroom is unassuming, framed by wide, rectangular windows with thick glass panes that catch the moonlight and illuminate the bed within. And still, the press of Kakashi’s hand on his back is comforting, firm, despite the quiet flare of apprehension in his stomach. “Tell me what I should do,” Naruto says, half request, half demand.

Kakashi nods, and says, “The best way to regain control over the situation is to take it back.”

“How do you mean?” Naruto asks, moving with Kakashi to the center of the room.

Kakashi answers, “You take, rather than receive. Does that make sense?”

Naruto leans in, raising a hand to pull at the fabric mask covering the lower half of Kakashi’s face, brushing a thumb over his lower lip, wonderingly. He feels more than hears the sharp intake of breath, a low rumble of assent, so he presses in, closing the distance between them.

“Like that?” he asks eventually, breaking away for air. “Yes,” Kakashi says, on a lilt, “Good, like that.”

When he leans in for another kiss, Kakashi is all too obliging. Naruto takes the opportunity then, on Kakashi’s next intake of breath, and tips them backwards onto the bed. Even he is surprised at how his body moves, smooth, effortless, as Naruto straddles him. Kakashi moves with him, drawn-to-him like a magnet, and nuzzles into the crook of Naruto’s neck. It feels. Natural.

And that’s the thing, isn’t it, it feels all too natural here, when he’s supposed to be someone else. “I should,” he gestures at himself, lifting his hands on a moment’s hesitation.

“Whatever you want,” Kakashi replies, but it’s entirely too calm, put-together, when Naruto feels like his world’s being turned upside-inside out.

He transforms on a breath (like relief) promptly feeling at ease, settled into her skin. It’s meant to be a diversion, anyway; though between the two of them, he’s not sure for whom.

Kakashi stiffens beneath him, a momentary lapse. Then, his hands slide to Naruto’s hips, large on (her) slimmer build, and he says, “Good, keep going.”

Steadily, Naruto reaches for the clasps on Kakashi’s vest, miming a gesture for _help_ , and the older man complies, stripping from the waist up. There are scars, large and small, marking up the expanse of Kakashi’s chest. Some of these are newer, others deep and carved into the skin, and the few, light and fading from time. He doesn’t have Naruto’s healing ability, so he’s left with these reminders, of a trying victory, a brush with death, and loss on the battlefield. Naruto wonders what it must be like, to face that in the mirror every day.

He traces his fingers over the criss-cross in the X-marked scar, from the last battle, and watches the tensing and relaxing of muscles beneath the skin. Kakashi places his hand on Naruto’s cheek, steering him in for another kiss, coaxes his lips open and licks behind his teeth.

He reaches for the hem of his shirt and Kakashi helps him with it, pulling it over his head and tossing it somewhere on the floor. Then, boldly, Naruto presses a hand to the back of Kakashi’s neck, fingers tangling in the roots of his hair, and pulls him to (her) chest.

“You’re doing great,” Kakashi encourages, breath warm on delicate skin, and slides one of his hands down Naruto’s chest, over his belly and down, lower, slipping a hand beneath the waistband there, where Naruto’s already wet with arousal. After a beat, he presses in with one-two fingers, a familiar push-pull pulse that sends shivers up and down Naruto’s spine.

His ask is on the tip of his tongue, _more_ and _please_ the only way he knows how to say it. “I want,” Naruto keens, grinding down onto those fingers, chasing the feeling of fullness.

Kakashi seems to understand what he means, because he adds a third finger and there’s a brief burn, the feel of resistance that the older man soothes away with a kiss to Naruto’s cheek.

Naruto knows this next part, albeit he’s better attuned to his own anatomy, reaching down in the adjoining space between them and frees Kakashi’s cock from the restraints of his clothing. With surprising finesse, he wraps a hand around the firm member and strokes once, experimentally. He looks to Kakashi for affirmation and the man’s face is tilted back in pleasure, gorgeously flushed—watching Naruto with half-lidded eyes.

With his thumb, Naruto collects the pre-cum pooling at the tip, rubs it over the head, generating a better slide. Kakashi huffs, choking back a hoarse groan and there’s enough validation there for Naruto to know it’s good.

“C’mere,” Kakashi murmurs, gently removing Naruto’s hand, and pulls him in for another kiss. While Naruto’s sufficiently distracted, Kakashi resumes the thrust of his fingers, caressing velvet walls. He mouths kisses to the corner of Naruto’s lip, his jaw, collarbone, and nuzzles at (her) chest, taking a nipple between his lips and nipping playfully until it perks, alternating with soothing swipes of his tongue.

The first wave of pleasure hits Naruto like a shock, and it catches him off-guard, pitches him forward into Kakashi’s embrace. Then Kakashi mouths at the sensitive skin on (her) breast, just above the _thud-thud_ of his heart beating, and he feels his body arch, suspended, as his orgasm rips through him like blinding white-heat.

He feels Kakashi withdraw his fingers, wiping them on an inconspicuous corner of the sheets, laying him down and pressing a pillow beneath Naruto’s head. Naruto shudders through the aftershocks of his orgasm, and it’s moments later when he opens his eyes again. He notes belatedly how Kakashi has tucked himself back in, tidied up, but it doesn’t conceal his arousal.

“Sorry,” Naruto starts, reaching out instinctively, heart in his throat. But Kakashi catches his wrist, stops him with a firm shake of his head. “It’s fine. You did fine.”

It’s the same hard line being drawn—and it still feels like rejection—dulled only by his post-orgasm haze, half dreaming behind heavy eyes. His jutsu releases with a familiar puff of smoke and when it clears it’s just Naruto, sharing the same space, same air as Kakashi, a hair's breadth away from something more.

**+++**

He dreams of a soft caress and lingering kiss to his temple, tangled limbs and a hand that fits in his. When he wakes, he’s alone.

There’s a note taped to the back of the bedroom door that reads: _Early morning meeting. Last lesson involves Presentation, meet in front of the Academy tonight, 6._

Naruto heads back to his apartment and takes a shower, washes any remnants of last night down the drain, and the insecurities to go along with it.

In front of the mirror, he practices various transformations. He gives his disguise strawberry-blonde hair, two shades darker than his. She has curves like the original, a modest chest, and plush lips. She’s less beautiful than she is cute, with soft cheeks and large, round eyes—his shade of blue—but she has an innocence about her that she wears on her sleeve. He keeps the pigtails.

For her outfit, she dons bright, cuffed shorts and a simple navy dress that falls mid-thigh. It hugs her waist and slits on one side, trimmed with orange. He leaves the kunai holster, fastened on a bare thigh.

Naruto does a final once-over and hums approvingly, pleased with the results.

**+++**

He arrives at the Academy ten minutes to six. Kakashi is already there, unusually early.

“Kakashi-sensei!” he calls, jogging the remaining distance.

The older man turns towards him, regarding Naruto speculatively. “Naruto?” he asks.

Grinning, Naruto replies, “Yep! I worked on the alias you guys gave me in my briefing. Kita Michiko, at your service, what do you think!”

Kakashi leans in, lifting a strand of Michiko’s strawberry hair, and voices his approval, “Well done. You’re already exceeding my expectations for our last lesson. Why don’t you tell me a little bit about yourself, Michiko?”

Naruto beams. “Well, I’m a native of Konoha and have lived here all my life. I lost my parents when I was young so my grandmother took me in and raised me. She passed away last year, and I miss her everyday… Sometimes I think about leaving Konoha to travel the world—I will one day—but right now my goal is to learn more about what it means to be a shinobi.”

Kakashi says, “Thank you for sharing that, Michiko. Can you tell me more about Konoha?”

“Of course!” Naruto replies, catching on, “Why don’t I give you a quick tour of our landmarks?

First, this is the Academy where prospective ninja train. Many of our landmarks are concentrated here, by the Hokage monument. On the opposite side of town, you’ll find the main entrance to Konoha.

The Hokage’s office itself is also located here—it’s where we report for our mission assignments and debriefings. And over _there_ ,” he points, gesturing at the massive mountain behind the Academy, “is Hokage Rock. All the Hokages’ faces are engraved there.”

He pauses, pointing in another direction, “Near the center of the city, east of here, is Konoha Hospital, should you have any medical emergencies. Our staff is _top-notch_ —the Godaime personally tends to the patients that come through, and she runs a unit there, ever since she retired.”

He sees Kakashi nod from the corner of his eye. Naruto continues, walking towards the direction of Ichiraku, out of habit. “As for food and entertainment—if you’re hungry, there are several restaurants in the village square, closer to the center of town as well. During the day, you’ll find merchant stands selling a variety of local items, from traditional clothing to house appliances. Since it’s summer, we have a few festivals to look forward to and you’ll likely find a variety of fireworks on display.

Finally, the Konoha hot springs are not too far from here. I highly recommend visiting while you’re in town.”

At that, Naruto spins in his tracks, training his attention back on Kakashi. With a coy smile and all the knowledge and preparation of the last forty-eight hours, he reaches forward, taking the Rokudaime’s hand nimbly in his, and asks, “So where would you like me to accompany you tonight?”


	2. Another Day, Another Revolution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _There are still days when he chases that feeling, of camaraderie and friendship and companionship, though it’s been years since they’ve been a team._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading so far, everyone! I'm excited to bring you the second chapter. Enjoy~

It’s Wednesday morning when the team reconvenes in the Hokage’s office. Gaara is dressed in his Kazekage attire and Temari is decked in her fighting gear. Kakashi himself is pristine in his Hokage robe, a calm, collected presence in the early hours of morning.

They’d arrived separately, ten minutes apart, though Naruto had woken to bedsheets tangled around his legs, an arm thrown haphazardly across his waist, too warm. And Kakashi had woken too.

_“Does it hurt anywhere?” Kakashi asks first._

_Naruto fights a blush, pulling the sheets to cover himself from the waist down, says, “No. I mean, I’m not_ her _anymore, she was just.” Just a disguise, just some made up character for a_ mission _and she’s not Naruto, he’s not her, but. But she’s the one Kakashi had kissed into the night, warm and fond, taken apart inch by inch, and, in the soft afterglow, the one he’d held sweetly in his arms._

Just Naruto _, he thinks, there’s nothing to feel, nothing to hurt about._

_“It’s fine,” he says a moment later, deliberately, with words that Kakashi-sensei will understand. “I’m fine.”_

“Where’s Shikamaru,” he asks.

“On his way,” Temari answers, “he left late last night to complete one more round on the border. He should’ve started making his way back now.”

“Shall we run through our plan once more?” Gaara asks, setting his gourd down on the floor beside him.

Kakashi nods, folding his hands and resting his chin atop his fingers. “Yes, let’s make sure we’re all on the same page.”

“Alright.” Gaara says, “The trio should arrive this afternoon. We will meet with them briefly, establish quick introductions and an overview of our expectations. Kakashi and I will cover the script there.”

Naruto nods, continuing, “We’ll give them a few hours to settle into the room we secured at the Konoha hot springs. During dinner, I’ll take point on engaging Zinan and, assuming everything goes well, he’ll extend an invitation after we wrap there.”

“Right,” Temari says, “Shikamaru and I will be on standby, just a few rooms down if anything—” She frowns, backtracking, “We’ll be on standby.”

“Gaara and I will be on alert for any pressing information you learn from the exchange,” Kakashi finishes, something piercing in the look he directs at Naruto.

There’s a short rap on the door, perfectly timed, before Shikamaru lets himself in. “Morning,” he greets, looking weary.

Temari says, “Welcome back, anything interesting to report?”

The strategist shakes his head. “No, I scouted all our outposts. Everything is going according to plan…”

“What is it? You don’t seem so sure.” Temari asks.

“It’s just,” Shikamaru explains, “Something felt off. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.” He shakes his head, shrugging, and continues, “Well. It can’t be helped, let’s just play things by ear. Stay alert.”

The room nods in agreement. “Alright then,” Kakashi says, “Let’s reconvene here in the afternoon. Shikamaru and Temari will meet our visitors at the gate to check them in and bring them here.”

**+++**

There are a few more hours still before the plan is set in motion. Naruto goes home to shower before he heads back out, towards the village square.

The merchant stands are bustling with people today. Tanabata is only a couple weeks away and that’s reflected in the lively colors and crowds. He ambles his way through, window-shopping—searching for a women’s yukata that might match the bright coral-orange obi Sasuke had given him. Of course, Sasuke had been right all along. Michiko should be radiant tonight, and hopefully, Naruto can be over this alias business shortly thereafter.

He glances past the stalls of fireworks, from humble to explosive. His favorite sort are the sparklers, subtle little things that light up your world. Team 7 had purchased a trove of them one summer, when they’d still been getting to know each other. Kakashi-sensei had taken them down by the forest clearing, and it was Sakura who had the idea to plant them all along the side of the river, like flowers. Sasuke had used his _Katon no Jutsu_ to light them up, a long, bright trail that eventually curved around the river bend.

And Naruto had watched their faces, youthful, happy, illuminated tenfold in the dark.

There are still days when he chases that feeling, of camaraderie and friendship and companionship, though it’s been years since they’ve been a team.

Something catches his eye, a dark teal yukata with a white lily pattern, superimposed against the fabric. It is understated amongst the racks and racks of vibrant prints, pinks, yellows, and greens, but he already knows, it is the one he’s purchasing.

The vendor recognizes him immediately and tries to give him a discount despite his protests. “Is this for your girlfriend?” she asks, and Naruto chuckles, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. “Uh, you could say that…”

At home, he retrieves a box of things Konohamaru had given him, salvaged from Jii-chan’s house. Among the box contents is an old faded photograph of his father and mother, dressed in traditional clothing. Kushina’s long hair is braided and twisted into a pretty bun, secured by a large floral hairpiece. He digs out the hairpin and lays it atop his bedspread, beside the yukata and obi.

The great thing about perfecting his jutsu is he can replicate most things—like hair for example. He spends the next hour getting Michiko’s bun down to a tee, tries out the hairpiece on the right, then the left. When he is satisfied, he changes out of her fighting garb and slips into the light summer yukata.

He reaches for the obi next, unraveling it to its full length (it does bring out his eyes) and, a beat later, exclaims, “Eh!? How do I tie this thing?”

He fusses and fumbles with it for a good fifteen minutes, only managing a haphazard bow that flops on its side. “No good,” he mutters, undressing and hanging the garments in his closet. It won’t be necessary until tonight anyway, he’ll ask Temari for help before then.

Around noon, he finishes a cup of ramen and determines it’s nearly time to begin heading back to the office. For good measure, he brushes his teeth again. With a final look in the mirror, he transforms into Michiko.

**+++**

Kakashi is seated in his office, paging through report after report, looking entirely bored. Shikamaru and Temari must have already left for the village gate, and Gaara is nowhere to be found.

Though he suspects Kakashi has already sensed him, Naruto knocks lightly on the door, announcing his presence.

“Kakashi-sensei, hello,” Naruto says, letting himself into the room.

Kakashi glances up slowly, scanning the last line of the report in his hands before setting it atop a separate stack of presumably processed reports.

“Hello,” Kakashi replies, standing. He walks around the desk and comes to a stop in front of Naruto. “Michiko,” he says, intentional. “Gaara is on his way.”

Naruto looks up at him—Michiko is shorter than Naruto, and even more so than Kakashi. “Right, I know,” Naruto responds, fixated on the other man’s gaze, conscious of the sound of his breathing.

“Naruto,” Kakashi murmurs then, lifting a hand, fingers hovering within reach of Naruto’s face and—

_He tucks a strand of (strawberry) hair behind Naruto’s ear. “Let’s go for a walk tonight, the stars are out.”_

—Gaara enters the room. Naruto takes an unconscious step back.

“I’ve received word from Temari, they’re on their way.”

**+++**

They wait for their visitors in the lobby. Naruto settles into position beside the entryway. Shikamaru and Temari arrive not fifteen minutes later, with their guests in tow.

The group consists of two men and one woman; Naruto learns the leader is the one with slicked back hair, all deep set eyes and harsh angles, stone-like features. His eyes linger on Naruto-as-Michiko when introductions are made, and he treats the women like decoration. Naruto notices the way Shikamaru widens his stance, jaw tightening at every glancing touch, shoulder-brush that Temari expertly, discreetly evades.

“Thank you for coming all this way,” Kakashi says diplomatically, “We’re eager to discuss the contract further and learn what concepts you have to show us. You must be tired from traveling so we’ve made arrangements for your stay. My guard, Michiko, and Temari from Suna will personally show you to your accommodations, I hope that you find them suitable.”

The woman, Kinu, inclines her head, “Thank you Hokage-sama, how hospitable.”

“Please, take your time settling in. We’ve made dinner reservations for 7.”

Naruto takes the nod of affirmation as his cue to take over. “Please follow me,” he says in Michiko’s sweet tone, curling her lips into a warm, welcoming smile.

The walk to the hot springs is short but Naruto leaps into action as soon as they step foot outside the door.

He asks, “Was your trip long?” directing his question at Zinan. The man looks thrilled with the attention, and replies, “We made stops. In fact, we settled some business prior to our arrival.” His answer corroborates what they had learned from Sasuke, the deal seems to have been made.

“You have other customers?” Naruto asks, angling for curiosity. It seems to work because Zinan grins smugly, says, “We are in somewhat high demand. Mostly villages off-the-map—we were surprised to hear Konoha and Suna were entertaining the idea of purchasing when you already have Kyuubi in your reserves.”

He feels Kurama bristle at the name, and quells the anger, silencing it for now. “Are most of your deals in border towns then?” Naruto asks. He sees the warning glance Kinu shoots at their leader and knows he is walking a thin line.

“We’re here,” Temari says, interjecting. “We’ll leave you to it; the receptionist at the front desk is expecting you, and will show you to your suite. Michiko and I will return in the evening to gather you for dinner.”

They wait until the party has entered the inn before breathing twin sighs of relief. “Good job,” Temari tells him, “We’ll keep picking at this information throughout the night. Let’s head out.”

He asks Temari on their way back, “Can you show me how to tie an obi on a woman’s yukata? Michiko is undergoing a wardrobe change for dinner.”

Temari smirks, raising a delicate eyebrow. “Oh? Let’s see this then.”

“Fine to make a pit stop at mine?” he asks, gesturing in the direction of his apartment.

“Lead the way.”

**+++**

Temari unrolls the obi, folding one short end in half and lining it diagonally across Naruto’s chest. She loops the rest of the unfolded sash around his waist twice and ties a knot at the front.

“Watch,” she instructs, taking the slack and forming a layered fold, like an accordion. “You’ll need to dress yourself after.” She says it bluntly, pragmatically, as she scrunches the middle of the accordion layer and brings the other, folded end over and under its center, securing the bow in place. What remaining fabric, she tucks away, concealing it in the other folds.

“There we go,” she murmurs, half to herself, sounding pleased. Finally, she twists the entire bow around, so that it sits squarely against Naruto’s back.

She examines his attire, giving the disguise a full once-over. “You look good, Michiko-chan,” she says with a wink, “Knock ‘em dead.”

**+++**

Naruto adjusts the floral piece in his hair, a passing tick, probably, a result of his nerves. He’s never had to worry about this sort of thing, accessories and hair and all this extra cloth that seems more for flair than functionality. In a final round of prep, Temari had demonstrated how to hold his sleeve back when reaching for things, sit with his legs closed, crossing at the ankles. God, it isn’t easy being a woman.

They retrieve their guests at the inn, and Naruto doesn’t miss the leer directed his way, acknowledges with a subtle incline of his head. It’s another brief walk to the restaurant, and this time he keeps conversation light, playing the hospitable tour guide, working to dispel any suspicions he may have triggered in their previous conversation.

“Yo,” Shikamaru calls, directed more at Temari than anyone. “The Hokage and Kazekage are inside.”

Naruto hangs back, falling in step with Shikamaru as they wait for their guests to enter the restaurant. The hostess shows them to a private room of the teahouse, where Kakashi and Gaara are already seated.

“Good evening,” someone greets, though he doesn’t see who; Kakashi is watching him carefully, an unreadable look on his face.

_“The thing you need to be wary of is eye contact.” Kakashi tells him, leaning into the wide expanse of the village below them—a cluster of lights—small, distant from atop the monument. “A person’s vulnerability is most apparent in their eyes. You can use that to your advantage.”_

Shikamaru elbows him, breaking his trail of thought. Right, this isn’t the time. Ducking his head, Naruto walks to the table and takes a seat on the zabuton beside Kakashi.

They order warm sake for the table, and share a round of drinks before the food arrives. Gaara kicks off the conversation, turning to Kuni who handles the contracts, and asks for an itemized list. She describes the arsenal, charting the various equipment in stock. There are four categories: defense, evasion, close-range attack, and long-range attack. For them, she hints at drawing up a contract around the former, but Gaara keeps her talking, extracting descriptions of _artillery_ and compact death traps.

As the night progresses, Naruto keeps count of the bottles of sake that come, one drink becomes three, becomes five, then seven. He leans into the liquid courage, and if Kakashi feels (Michiko’s) thigh pressed against his own, he neither says anything nor does he make an effort to push (her) away.

By the end of the night, everyone has formed their own side conversations. Shikamaru and Temari have engaged Takeo to discuss meeting plans for the next morning, whereas Gaara is grimly listening to Kuni describe a front-line barricade made from chakra-infused material. Across the table, Zinan has been helpfully focused on Michiko, trying and failing to be discreet.

“I would like to continue our conversation,” Zinan tells him, as Kakashi sends for the bill, “You will come with me after this?” It’s posed more as a request but he hears the thinly-veiled command; Zinan seems to know they assigned Michiko for his viewing pleasure, and he’s eager to take them up on the offer.

Naruto ducks his head shyly, and says, “I will.”  
  
“Michiko is one of our finest shinobi,” Kakashi intones, barely sparing Zinan a glance as he signs the check, “I trust you’ll treat her well.”

**+++**

They part ways with Shikamaru and Temari, who walk them to the inn; Naruto knows they’ll circle back around and assume position in their room nearby once the coast is clear.

“Good night,” Shikamaru tells them, giving Naruto a curt nod.

Inside, Takeo and Kinu retreat to their joint rooms; Zinan’s been given a room of his own, another grand gesture on their end—Naruto feels the pieces falling into place but he’s not entirely sure he’s ready.

“At last,” Zinan chortles delightfully, in the privacy of his suite. “I couldn’t take my eyes off you all night.” He reaches for (Michiko), pulling (her) with him towards the bed. Straight to it then.

Naruto lets himself be pressed back against the bedspread, supporting his weight with his elbows.

“You’re an absolute treat,” Zinan drawls, fitting his hand beneath the collar of Michiko’s yukata and slipping one side off to reveal a bare shoulder. He reaches around and undoes the sash, at which all structural integrity yields, and the yukata parts effortlessly, pooling loose around Michiko’s frame. At this rate it’s just a glorified robe.

The arms dealer eyes Michiko hungrily, gaze lingering on her cleavage, where Naruto had bound her chest with bandages.

“I was surprised,” the man says, “to find a shinobi of your radiance.” Naruto suppresses the urge to roll his eyes. “I’m loyal to my village, I care for the people here and I want to protect them,” he explains—Kakashi had recommended as much— _lies are more believable when they’re based in truth_.

“How did you find yourself as the personal guard to the Hokage?” Zinan inquires, “Does he want you too? He must; look at you.” Naruto narrows his eyes at the notion, it’s insulting on several levels—to suggest Kakashi, the Hokage, might act on something as insignificant, as superficial as base desire, or that a woman might have to leverage anything other than hard work and dedication to get ahead.

“I earned it,” he says, with Michiko’s sweetness, playful. “Since we’ve been talking about my background, I’d love to learn a little bit more about you too.”

“Ask me anything,” the man entreats, pressing a kiss to Michiko’s collar bone.

“How did you get into the business of weapons?” Naruto asks.

“It pays,” Zinan answers simply, “there are far too many people disillusioned with the state of things. In every era, every generation—you can’t please everyone.”

“Some people prefer violence?” Naruto offers, obliging the hand on his spine, unfastening the bindings there.

“Absolutely, in any case, it’s far more interesting. And, I profit.” Zinan hooks his fingers in the waistband of Michiko’s underwear and slips it off, doing away with the material hastily. His eyes are bright, taking in Michiko’s naked form.

Choosing his words carefully, Naruto asks, “Where do you profit most?”

The man grins, a terrible sneer, “All over the map, we’ve a monopoly on this trade at the moment.”

“And you’re able to handle all this incoming business with just the three of you? How many people do you manage?”

“What, are you interested in joining my ragtag troupe? You’d love traveling, there’s so much more in the world beyond this village.”

“Maybe,” he answers after a beat, “I have always been curious. I take it the market is not yet saturated?”

Zinan says, “We’re a small operation for now, beyond my immediate team I have a dozen men or so working for me. Manufacturing is contracted out in pieces, never the same company twice, so we keep the patent in the family.”

“Ah so, the only ones who know the intricacies of your operation are…”

“Just myself and the two with me,” Zinan confirms. It’s enough to work with, Naruto thinks, filing the information away. The others will be able to do more with it.

“How many contracts have you actually secured?” Naruto dares to ask, trapping Zinan’s trailing hand firmly against Michiko’s left breast, encouraging.

“One near Iwa, two outside of Wind country, and the one yesterday. After this meeting, we’ll be traveling across the water, to a small settlement bordering the Land of Mist.”

Naruto remembers the conversation with Shikamaru from the morning; there’s something off, he feels it too. If there were weapons deals in both the Wind and Fire countries, then how precise is their originating source of information? Ame is bordered by both Suna and Konoha, but between the two, there were three active trades.

“The men we signed with yesterday seemed on the cusp of a revolution,” Zinan muses, mouthing along the line of Michiko’s neck, gripping her chin for a bruising kiss.

Naruto doesn’t have time to process, Zinan is undressing himself, between shamelessly groping her breasts and ass—unable to keep his hands off of her.

“Is this your first time?” the man asks, and his hand is high on Michiko’s thigh now, tracing feather-light circles.

_“Wait,” Naruto gets out, before Kakashi can pull away for the third night in a row. “Please, I’d rather do this with you than some stranger.”_

_Kakashi frowns at him, a vehement shake of his head. “Naruto…” he warns, reprimanding._

_“I want this,” Naruto assures, speaking around the dry catch in his throat. “I-it, it doesn’t have to mean anything, if that’s what you’re worried about.”_

“N-no,” Naruto means to stutter, “though I’m inexperienced yet.”

The man chuckles, giddy. “Naughty girl. Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll take good care of you tonight.” When he slips his hand lower, trailing thick fingers down her abdomen, Naruto pitches a moan, just so, spreading (her) legs, determined to ignore the way his stomach twists, feeling disgusted with himself.

The man barely spends any time opening her up, too eager, hooking an arm under Michiko’s knee (and it takes all of Naruto’s willpower not to gag) lining himself up against her entrance and—

_—He takes his time easing in, slow stretches of burn that morph into a satisfying, pleasurable fullness. “Naruto, are you alright?” Kakashi asks, touching Naruto’s hip in gentle inquiry._

_Naruto nods, unable to form words around the lump in his throat, caught off guard by the look in Kakashi’s eyes—full of concern and quiet desperation. “I’m fine,” he says, sweeping his thumb beneath the curve of Kakashi’s left eye, the one Naruto had given him back in the war. “Please, go on.”_

_Kakashi obliges, rocking into him with painstaking precision; a stuttered, perfect rhythm that gets him in deep, making Naruto’s breath hitch with every slip and catch of his cock inside him. At this rate, he won’t last long._

_“Kakashi-sensei,” he utters, hiding his blush and pleasure against the crook of his arm, meeting the older man’s thrusts in time._

_“Just Kakashi is fine,” he replies, sounding breathless._

_This is still not Naruto’s body, overheating with so much desire, not his hands, reaching out to grip strong shoulders, not his voice that cries out into the silence when he comes. He knows that. But it doesn’t stop him from wanting._

_“Fuck,” he hears Kakashi rasp from above him, stuttering to a halt, a couple more shallow thrusts before he withdraws and releases onto the sheets beneath him._

_“Like that,” Kakashi says a moment later, cradling his face with a shaky hand, and Naruto wonders why. “If you can’t manage that, just pretend.”_

On an exhale of breath, Naruto returns to the present.

**+++**

He lies awake at the edge of the bed, waiting for the sound of breathing to even out. When he’s sure Zinan is entirely passed out, he rolls out of bed, stealthily. As much as he knows Shikamaru and Temari are fully prepared for the aftermath of the night, Naruto can’t bring himself to go to their room reeking of sex. He finds the shower, practically throwing himself into the water. It’s still heating up but he doesn’t care, scrubs down until his skin is red and raw.

He dresses hastily and slinks quietly out of the room, sandals in hand—leaving no trace he was ever there. With how much their guests drank that evening, it’d certainly be plausible.

Shikamaru and Temari are three rooms down the hall. He finds them chatting idly by the door when he arrives, and it feels like he interrupted something. “Let’s go,” is all he says, finally releasing his jutsu in the safety of their room.

**+++**

They move quickly in the night, making a beeline for the Hokage building where Kakashi and Gaara are waiting. On the way there, Naruto relays his findings, pointing out the discrepancy he noted earlier. It’s Shikamaru who suggests this may not be a simple string of one-offs—there’s a good chance they could be dealing with something bigger.

As Naruto steps into the Hokage’s office, he recalls with a bone-chilling start, _Sasuke_. They sent Sasuke on a one-man mission—far away from the village—right into the eye of the storm.

“Naruto,” Kakashi says, glancing up at their arrival, “Is something wrong?”

“Where’s Sasuke?” Naruto asks, the first words out of his mouth.

The Rokudaime's eyes narrow, the only indication of surprise. He glances briefly at Shikamaru before looking back to Naruto. “He’s on a mission at the moment.”

“We sent Sasuke to the border territory, didn’t we?” Naruto presses, “I saw him a couple days ago, he was on his way there.”

Kakashi nods at this, face betraying no emotion. “Yes,” he confirms, “Is there something I’m missing here?”

“Naruto has gathered new information that suggests a string of arms deals on our borders might be related. The deal they wrapped this week was preceded by two other instances outside of Suna,” Shikamaru explains, “It’s likely Sasuke is in the midst of a budding revolution.”

Gaara asks, “Do we have proof these cases are connected?”

“Nothing concrete,” Shikamaru concedes, “it’s a hunch of mine.”

“Temari and I can send word back for reinforcements. We have a few patrols stationed on the border already, though I’ll admit we didn’t anticipate joint rebellion forces by any means,” Gaara says, “We should be careful about how we approach this. It may be safer to keep quiet on the matter, until we have more information.”

“Right,” Kakashi agrees, “I also trust that Sasuke has a handle on the situation. We don’t want to draw any unnecessary attention to him when we don’t need to.”

Naruto knows what they're discussing makes sense. It’s a political matter more than anything, especially in a time of peace—and this was always a reconnaissance mission—but it doesn’t quell the pit in his stomach, the feeling of deja-vu.

“Is there a way to get a hold of him, then?” Naruto asks.

Kakashi looks away, “Possibly, it won’t be easy. He went dark for this one; he wasn’t supposed to resurface until the matter was resolved.”

Naruto takes a step forward, edging into the center of the room. “I understand we want to avoid unnecessarily drawing attention to civil unrest. I’m not proposing we take extreme measures here, but...right now we have enough useful information about the situation, and a strong hunch—When have we ever known Shikamaru to be wrong about these things?—it would be negligent to just let it pass. _I_ can’t sit idly by knowing what I know and do nothing.”

Kakashi frowns, his expression stern, and Naruto knows his teacher’s mind is made up on the matter even though he asks, “What _are_ you proposing then, Naruto?”

“Let me go,” Naruto answers, “I’ll be able to track him on my own.” He knows Kakashi knows this, Naruto’s sage mode will enable him to pinpoint Sasuke’s chakra signature in a sea of others.

“No.” Kakashi says, firm.

“Why not!” he retorts, though it’s a reflex more than anything.

Kakashi shakes his head, looking at the others imploringly, “Apologies, can you leave us for a little?”

“Yes, that's fine,” Temari tells him, signaling for her brother and Shikamaru. “We’ll get a head start on arranging reinforcements. Take your time.”

With the door closed, Kakashi finally says, “Naruto, I know you feel responsible for Sasuke, but what are you trying to accomplish here? We have other options we can explore.” He doesn't say it, but Naruto hears it in his tone, the hint of exasperation, when adults are speaking to children.

He shakes his head, trying to articulate. _It’s Sasuke_ probably won’t fly as an explanation, but that’s about all he has running through his head. Naruto practically spent all his teenage years chasing after his rival/best friend/brother trying to bring him home, he’s acting on instinct. And he’s really done with losing the important people in his life, not if he can help it.

“I just. I have a gut feeling that he’ll need my help. And Kakashi-sensei, you and I are both people who wouldn’t leave our teammates behind, knowing that.”

Kakashi sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “As the Hokage, I can’t allow it. You know that too. I am trying to look out for your best interests, Naruto, and this is irresponsible. You’re in line for the seventh title. Shikamaru and I have been doing everything in our power to ensure you make it to your inauguration unscathed.”

“I realize that,” Naruto concedes, “but sensei, I’ve said this before, haven’t I? How can I become Hokage if I can’t even save one of my friends?” He looks away, steeling himself for his next words. “I’m going to find him, you can try and stop me, or you can let me go.”

There’s a moment of silence between them, and Naruto hears Kakashi move, robes swishing. “Fine,” he says, coming to stand before him. “It’s clear you’ve already made up your mind.”

“I have,” Naruto replies, daring a look in his direction. Kakashi's expression is solemn; he's frowning beneath his mask, and Naruto has a sudden urge to kiss it away.

“I can’t go with you,” Kakashi warns him, and it sounds like regret; it sounds like he wants to.

“I know that,” Naruto says, “Your responsibility is to keep the village safe.” And earnestly, “Thank you.”

Kakashi nods, still looking torn. After a beat, he reaches out, settling a hand on Naruto’s shoulder. “Just, come back.”

**+++**

Naruto leaves in the early hours of morning. It’s still dark out but the sun will start its ascent soon. The outskirts of Fire country is a little over a day’s journey on foot, faster if he travels through the trees. He knows the way well but tracking Sasuke’s trail will be a little more difficult.

When he’s deep in the forest, Naruto makes two clones and keeps them on hand to help gather the natural energy needed for Sage mode. He’s a lot better at it these days. It feels like ages since he first learned the technique on Mount Myōboku, right after he’d lost Jiraiya.

Right around dawn, he detects the faint trace of Sasuke’s unique chakra strain, northwest of where he is. He moves in that direction for several hours, tuning in again every twenty kilometers or so, checking he’s still on the right path. At the tenth hour, he breaks by the river, eats a quick meal before resuming the trail.

He sees the crater first—a massive pit in the earth with a diameter the size of a stadium. It’s clear where there once were trees, a path blown for miles out. Sasuke is that way.

Naruto picks up his pace, discharging his clones now that he’s clear on the trace. “Hold on, Sasuke,” he mutters to himself, “I’m on my way.”

**+++**

It’s close to sundown when Naruto stumbles upon the scene. The ground is torn up in a similar fashion to what he’d witnessed earlier, a wreck of debris and rubble, hot still from being ablaze. In the distance, he hears the unmistakable sounds of battle; a blast sears the sky, momentarily shrouding his surroundings in darkness. He moves on instinct, forging a silent path towards the noise.

There, in the clearing ahead, he glimpses Sasuke’s complete Susano’o, distinctly purple, a familiar armor-clad giant with the wicked face of a god. Naruto channels his tailed-beast energy, pulling from his reserves, and feels Kurama lift his head, opening a curious eye.

Susano’o is taking direct blasts despite evading several; something is aiming at him, trained on him, his every movement. When Naruto approaches from the shadows, he sees there are gaping, steaming holes in the giant’s armor, sealing themselves slowly by comparison to the steady onslaught.

He finally sees the source of the attack, three large metal structures that form a semi-circle on the battlefield, firing what can only be described as darkish-green beams of light, in unrelenting tandem. Someone, maybe more than one person, is operating them behind an impossibly tall barricade. Pieces of last night’s conversation stream through Naruto’s mind, Kinu had so articulately described what he’s seeing now on the battlefield.

Naruto gathers the energy for his rasengan-shuriken, aiming at the source. His attack soars in the air, catapulting towards one of the firing machines, hardlocked on the target. For a moment it seems as if it will hit dead-center. Then the air around them ripples, static-electricity engulfing them like a heavy blanket, and the attack is swallowed into an invisible void. He curses under his breath, as Sasuke in Susano’o turns his direction. He’s given himself away.

Naruto leaps forward, into Sasuke’s path and hops onto the deity’s extended hand.

“What are you doing here!” Sasuke hisses at him when they are at eye level, pulling Naruto forward anyway, into the transparent chamber on Susanoo’s forehead.

Naruto resists the urge to roll his eyes, of course this is how Sasuke greets him. Now is clearly not the time to argue, they can do that after, when they’ve won.

“I came to help, Sasuke-teme, it obviously looks like you need it.”

“I can’t get close enough to do any damage,” Sasuke explains, “They have some sort of chakra-depleting field protecting them. I’ve been dodging their attack for hours.”

“How much chakra do you have left?” Naruto asks.

Sasuke shakes his head, “Not much, I must have lost damn near half when I hit that force field earlier.”

“I think,” Naruto says, “I came at the right time then.”

Sasuke chuckles dryly, his face grim, “We may be delaying the impossible, Naruto. I’m not sure how much longer we can hold them off.”

“Okay, so, close-range attacks are no good, right?” A strike hits them abruptly, propelling him into Sasuke who grits his teeth in pain—Susano’o just took another hit.

“I managed to make a crack earlier with my Kagutsuchi, to the right there.” He points to a spot where the air is still, more transparent, and Naruto just barely makes out the fissure. “It’s small but if we can build up enough mass, we may be able to break their barrier. We’ll need Kurama.”

“Ah!” Naruto acknowledges, “got it.”

He closes his eyes, looking inside himself to find Kurama. The fox grins, eager. “It’s been a while, kid.”

Kurama's chakra extends from his core, illuminating Naruto in gold, and growing, spreading until it takes on the form of the Kyuubi, a giant in his own regard.

“Let’s do this!” Naruto exclaims. In response, Susano’o fits around Kurama with his purple armor, merging them seamlessly into a single entity.

The fox tips his head back as Naruto starts charging their chakra for the tailed beast bomb, taking deadly aim.

“Steady yourself,” Sasuke warns, settling a hand on his shoulder. “We don’t know what comes next.”

The bomb makes contact. Moments go by. And then the air around them _shivers_ , like a mirage. The invisible wall before them cracks and cracks and cracks until finally it shatters entirely, exploding shrapnel in all directions. The resulting explosion sends Kurama flying backwards, shards of the former barrier raining down on them like hail.

“Naruto,” he hears Sasuke yell, “Watch out!”

The explosion is still ringing in his ears when he hits the ground hard, Kurama and Susano’o’s combined chakra force extinguished, like a dying flame. _Oh_ he realizes, too late, the barrier depletes users of their chakra on contact—and it’s currently bearing down on them in pieces.

When the hail of shattered barrier finally ceases, he glances up to survey the wreckage before him—everything reduced to debris—and his heart stops on the scene.

“N-No,” he murmurs in disbelief _._ Three feet away, Sasuke is lying motionless on the ground, covered in barrier-fragments that pierce his skin like needles. And through his chest, a long, sharp piece stakes him to the earth. “Sasuke!” he hears himself scream. _Not again-not again_ , drumming a sick beat in his head.

He crawls. With trembling hands, Naruto pries the barrier piece from Sasuke’s chest. He withdraws what remaining chakra he has left and channels it over his friend’s too-still body, over the gaping, gruesome hole left behind, and he heals.

Minutes pass that feel like hours. He hears Sasuke stir, and Naruto promptly blacks out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo I know Sasuke is super powerful but if neji can get yoked by a gd splinter in canon, I feel I can do anything. Don't worry, I'm a proponent of happy endings :P
> 
> Also, pulling out is not a form of birth control, folks. Remember to use protection. 
> 
> For your imagination, I based Naruto’s/Michiko’s yukata on [this](https://shop.r10s.jp/graceshop/cabinet/2018-iy/iy-24-4.jpg). 
> 
> See ya'll next week for the final installment!


	3. Tell me you don't (feel it too)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _He wakes once, mid-flight, beneath him a bed of thick feathers and the forest below._
> 
> _The next time he wakes, he's in a hospital bed._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, the last installment, folks! Thanks for sticking around, I hope you enjoy~

He wakes once, mid-flight, beneath him a bed of thick feathers and the forest below.

The next time he wakes, he's in a hospital bed.

**+++**

He hears voices by the bedside, low murmured discussion about the _patient's condition_.

"—been out for three days. Are we allowing visitors?"

"No, not until his condition is more stable."

“Eh, even _Hokage-sama_?”

“ _Obviously_ not him, Yumi-chan, he’s been here every day.”

Naruto opens his eyes and spots two nurses with their heads bent over a clipboard. “Ugh,” he groans and they jump at the noise, startled.

“You’re awake!” One of them exclaims, and he musters up the energy to nod his head.

“We’ll alert Tsunade-san!” the other woman says as she ushers them out.

When they are gone, he lets himself settle back against the pillow, resting his eyes.

There is a knock on his door before it opens to reveal Tsunade and Sakura, both wearing twin expressions of concern on their faces.

“Naruto!” Sakura exclaims, “Oh _thank god_.”

Tsunade strides over and promptly whacks him upside the head. Never one to beat around the bush. “What were you thinking!” she snaps, fuming.

“Ow!” he cries, clutching the back of his head. “Come on Tsunade baa-chan, you’re really going to beat on your patient? Give me a break!”

She shoots him an unamused look, hardly apologetic. “You’re lucky you’re alive, pulling a stunt like that. How Kakashi let you run off on your own, I can’t even begin to comprehend.”

Naruto looks away, guilty, recalling his last conversation with Kakashi. He hadn’t exactly given the man a choice.

“How’re you feeling?” Sakura asks.

“Tired,” he admits. His wounds from the blast have mostly healed over and there’s just a dull muscle ache that’s left. “How did I get here?” he asks, “Where’s Sasuke?”

Sakura frowns and replies, “On the other end of this hall. He’s in stable condition but he’s been unconscious since Garuda flew you two back here.”

Typical Sasuke, always with one more card up his sleeve even on the brink of death.

“I’ve sent word to Kakashi,” Tsunade tells him, “he’s on his way.”

**+++**

When Kakashi arrives, not ten minutes later, Naruto is dozing. Tsunade and Sakura have left to attend to other patients and it’s uncomfortable, just laying there left to his own thoughts, recollecting the events that landed him here.

Naruto senses him before he sees him, a warm, comforting presence that is entirely familiar. Visitation is hardly a novel experience for him. Naruto has landed himself in the hospital on several occasions by now, no doubt a consequence of his reckless nature. Each time, Kakashi had visited him in the hospital, looking half concerned but mostly amused, like he knew they were through the thick of it. He would settle himself on the edge of Naruto’s cot, an embarrassingly dog-eared book in hand, and Naruto would always wonder, whether Kakashi read the novel for its soft porn or the whimsical love story.

Kakashi doesn’t look amused at all this time.

“Naruto,” Kakashi breathes, in what feels like a moment of vulnerability, with wide eyes that express far too much.

Naruto says, “I’m—” and Kakashi says, “you could’ve died,” like he’s blaming himself. And Naruto knows his teacher; has spent the better part of his youth learning about him and his self-inflicted guilt.

“I’m sorry,” Naruto tries again, reaching out _for what_ , towards Kakashi who is just within reach. The gray-haired man lowers to a crouch beside the bed, obliging the contact.

There’s a jumbled mess of thoughts racing through his head that Naruto doesn’t quite understand, undeniably attributed to the fast, unyielding events of the last few days, with hardly any time to process. He doesn’t know how to convey everything he’s feeling—that his world feels off-kilter and wrong and it makes him uncomfortable in his own skin. He desperately wants to say something (stupid), like _Don’t worry_ or, _I’m home_ , the words like quiet yearning in his chest. He still _wants_ , and now it’s glaring in the light of day.

“I’m sorry,” Naruto repeats, “It’s not your fault.”

Kakashi looks unconvinced, though he turns his gaze to Naruto again, and it feels like Naruto is seeing him for the first time. He looks as exhausted as Naruto feels, dark rings underneath his eyes where the restless nights must’ve finally caught up to him. Naruto wants to ask, _why_ , as if the concern is displaced, though a tiny part of him already knows, and it feels justified.

He thinks to ask, “Are things taken care of?”

Kakashi nods in affirmation, “With the intel you collected and some additional verification on Gaara’s end, we were able to resolve the matter. We sent word to the other territories and are working on dispatching teams to track down the border towns involved. The Union has put out an order to detain Zinan and his team for inciting rebellion during peaceful conditions. Ultimately, it worked in our favor that he kept his operation small.”

“Good,” Naruto says, “I’m glad.” It seems obvious now, in retrospect, how seamlessly their plan had come together, what good strategy and dutiful execution can do for a mission. And that’s all anyone else will ever know (if at all), their success is enduring peace—nothing is changed. _At what cost_ , he can barely answer himself.

**+++**

Sasuke wakes four days later. By then, Naruto is out of bed and walking about (though still on strict orders from Tsunade to stay in the hospital.) He’d been pretty reckless after all and they’re not taking any chances.

Kakashi is the one who shares the news. He’s been dropping by daily, in the early hours and again, late in the evening. Most of the hospital staff turns a blind eye to the casual disregard of curfew, as Naruto is sure it’s nothing new. On a few occasions, he catches the nurse from before, Yumi-chan, sneaking stealthy glimpses of the Rokudaime, hiding a blush behind her clipboard. It hadn’t occurred to him—Kakashi has always been easy on the eyes, even with half his face hidden behind a mask—it doesn’t take much convincing to let him stay.

(And yes, he comes to check on Sasuke’s condition, one of the few with clearance to do so, but he also spends the bulk of his time with Naruto, sitting at his bedside, passing the time reading his beloved book. Content, even without the conversation. It’s begun to feel normal, and Naruto wonders if they can still go back to the way things were.)

They go with Sakura, who is taking it better than expected. These last few days, Sasuke has been in Konoha longer than he has in years. All of which he’s yet to reach out to her. She must have so much to say.

Naruto himself has spent the last couple of days forming a discussion around Sasuke’s eleventh hour endeavor, a stunt that Naruto still hasn’t had enough time to be upset about. The fear and rage of nearly losing his best friend again hits him all at once when he sees Sasuke, the first time since he was laying motionless on the ground.

Sasuke greets them with a grim expression, a little worn around the edges. He has bandages from the waist up and his arm (the only one left) is in a sling. Any attempt at civil dialogue promptly flies out of Naruto’s head.

“Hey!” he snaps a little harshly, "my-body-just-moved asshole, what were you thinking?"

Sasuke looks at him blankly and simply replies, “You were in danger.”

Naruto suppresses a frustrated growl. “We were _both_ in danger! You didn’t have to go and risk your life over it. Did you even consider we had better odds at defending against the explosion together?”

Sasuke shoots him a glare, sufficiently irritated now, it seems. “Of course I _considered_ it,” he snipes, “I wasn’t going to gamble your safety on that, are you dense?”

“D-dense!?” Naruto sputters, “Oi teme, it didn’t exactly pan out your way, now did it?”

Sasuke scoffs, practically rolling his eyes. “Right, leave it to you to screw up even a rescue attempt.”

“I came to rescue _you_ , you bastard!”

“Funny, I remember it differently,” Sasuke replies, and there’s just an edge of his trademark smirk.

Naruto opens his mouth to retort when Sakura cries, "Stop! Stop it, just, shut up, please."

They both turn to look at her, effectively interrupted.

"You two are unbelievable," Sakura says, on a shaky exhale, "Do you know? You nearly died, the both of you!”

Naruto shifts uncomfortably, suddenly feeling embarrassed about his behavior. They’re grown men arguing over details.

“You have to stop doing this, this self-sacrificial bullshit, throwing yourselves over each other trying to one-up the other in martyrdom. One day you won’t be as lucky, and—” Her lip trembles, she looks on the verge of crying.

“Maa, anyway that’s not why we’re here,” Kakashi interjects helpfully, “We came to see how you were doing Sasuke.”

Sasuke nods, inclining his head in acknowledgement. He says, “I feel like shit.” It’s enough of a gesture, lightening the mood considerably, and Naruto feels a laugh bubble out of him. Then they’re all laughing, vibrant and happy, brief but irrevocably Team 7.

“You’re fine,” he mumbles, mostly for himself. And Sasuke says softly, “Thank you, Naruto.”

**+++**

Naruto is discharged the next day but he isn’t assigned to any new missions. Tsunade wants him rooted for at least another week, and Shikamaru is insistent there aren’t pressing matters from the Hokage, though he can’t tell if they’re both just covering for his sake.

He visits Iruka-sensei and they catch up on life. Iruka is reasonably concerned, knows _enough_ (a familial intuition) to express relief that Naruto is alive and well—makes him promise to take better care of himself. He treats Naruto to ramen and tells him about the new cohort, more proof than anything that life goes on, new generations come and go through that Academy.

He doesn’t see Kakashi at all that week, but he chalks it up to things resuming status quo. The Hokage is a busy man and Naruto had half expected it, for things to return to normal. He’d wanted that normalcy back, anyway. (Though he hadn’t expected the gaping hole left in its wake.)

Sasuke’s hospital stay resolves with no additional complications. He’s released a week later and Naruto already knows he won’t stay. He waits for him at the village entrance to see him go.

Naruto asks earnestly this time, “Why’d you do it?” _Your life is worth something too,_ he means.

“I had to,” Sasuke states with a certain conviction, “You’re going to be the next Hokage.”

"And you’re set on leaving again?” he asks warily.

Sasuke avoids his gaze, looking determinedly at the ground. "Yes," he admits.

"Your friends are here, Sasuke. This is your village too."

“I know,” Sasuke replies, though he hardly sounds convinced. Sasuke could spend the rest of his life atoning, and he won't let himself have this.

“Then, when I become Hokage,” Naruto says, determined, “When I become Hokage, I want you to come home.”

Sasuke finally looks up at him, a gentle, affirming smile defining his features. "When you become Hokage.”

**+++**

Two weeks from his hospital discharge, Naruto is finally assigned a mission. It’s right on the cusp of him feeling restless, with nothing to do.

He’s being dispatched to Lightning territory, about a week’s journey from Konoha. The Union has pinned down the last rogue operation in this cascading network of engagements.

Konoha and Kumo send a four-man team each. This time, they have considerably more knowledge at their disposal, and it seems no one is taking any chances.

Naruto’s team consists of Sai and two members from the Anbu. They’ve all been selected for specific reasons, Shikamaru tells him, at the behest of the Rokudaime. And he expertly skirts the question when Naruto asks _for what_.

It’s a stealth undertaking, a quick in and out with straightforward objectives. Naruto doesn’t have to think about his next move or fabricate conversation on the fly. He sees their Lightning allies for all of two minutes before the job is done. It’s inconspicuously simple for all those reasons, and Naruto thinks to ask, “Did you even need me?”

No one answers him, though Sai has the decency to look put out, clearly conflicted.

He goes on three more missions, each less complex than the last, yet the requesting rank is unwaveringly the same: A or B level missions with four-man teams, like he’s the odd one out. Shikamaru doesn’t even feign interest when he hands Naruto the newest briefing, on behalf yet again of the Hokage.

And maybe it’s clear, he’s more a liability than an asset lately.

**+++**

When his team returns a week later from their latest mission, a little over a month has gone by. They’d meant to set up camp the previous night, but awake and restless, they’d pushed on into dawn, and kept going. It’s nightfall when they reach the outer edge of the forest clearing. The air is warm and humid, an overbearing heat all around them. He can smell an oncoming storm in the distance.

They reach Konoha half an hour later, and by the time they’ve crossed into the village, grey clouds are hanging low in the sky, delivering fat, wet droplets that darken and bleed into the ground.

He bids a quick farewell to his teammates before taking off into a run, trying to beat the torrential onslaught of rain. Storms like this in the summer are rare, surely to have put a damper on the active month of July, full of summer festivities and fireworks. He runs without thinking, feet carrying him in the direction of the Academy.

The Hokage’s residence is just around the corner, a block off the main street, and Naruto slows his pace to a walk, mapping the familiar route to Kakashi’s apartment with hesitant steps. It’s a quarter past nine now, and he doesn’t know what he’s doing here, why he bothered when Kakashi has seemingly made it clear, he doesn’t think about him at all.

His hair is dripping wet in his eyes, and frustrated, he pushes his bangs from his forehead. The rain has passed now and it’s still warm out, but he’s sufficiently drenched, practically a puddle himself. All he can think is _I should go, I should go_ when he knocks on the door.

A few moments later, Kakashi opens the door, looking like he’s been caught off guard. “What’re you doing here?” he asks, and it sounds off, shuttered. Naruto notices the way he crosses his arms tightly over his chest, leaning to one side of the doorframe.

He doesn’t know how to answer that. _What_ , he was running from the rain and his feet brought him here? It already feels like he’s going crazy, he doesn’t want to sound like it too.

“The mission finished early,” he says stupidly anyway, “I came to report.”

“The mission report can wait until tomorrow, Naruto,” Kakashi chides, “Go home, dry off and get some rest. You’re dripping wet.” It’s amazing, Naruto thinks, how he can imagine what he wants to hear—because right now that sounds an awful lot like concern to him.

“Why won’t you talk to me?” he asks, hating the way his voice trembles.

“I’m talking to you right now,” Kakashi replies.

“That’s not,” Naruto mutters, shaking his head in frustration, on the verge of tears, “That’s not what I mean, you’re twisting my words.” He takes a second to catch his breath, grateful for the pregnant pause. “I wanted to see you,” he tries, more sincere. “For the past month, it’s been one missed attempt after the next—you were avoiding me. And I know I told you that it didn’t have to—I wouldn’t take it to mean anything. I know I have no right to feel like this, you were just helping me prep for the mission, _I know that_. But you’re not being fair, Kakashi-sensei. I feel like I’m, god, I don’t even know _what_ , and I can’t even ask you, you won’t give me the time of day.”

He hears Kakashi curse under his breath, feels strong hands pull him inside without heed. He’s dripping all over the entryway. “Naruto, look at me,” Kakashi says, hands still on Naruto’s arms, holding him close, holding him in place. “I’m sorry,” he says, “ _Fuck_ , I’m so sorry.”

Kakashi brings his hand to Naruto’s cheek, thumb tracing a line where it’s wet, maybe from the rain, and Naruto leans into the touch. “ _I_ should’ve stopped it when I had the chance. It was my responsibility and I failed you when it mattered the most. You’re not—you haven’t done anything wrong, Naruto, and I’m sorry you feel this way, you shouldn’t have—”

“What, developed feelings?” Naruto asks out loud, “I don’t even know what that means.”

He hears Kakashi scoff, a bitter, choking sound. “You wear your heart on your sleeve, I should’ve known. I’m supposed to be protecting you but I just. I took advantage of you.” His teacher looks horrified, like so much regret, and it’s terrible to see illuminated, the realization that must’ve haunted him all those weeks.

“Is that what you thought?” Naruto asks. “I’m not a kid anymore. I knew what I was doing and I knew what I was getting into. I couldn’t care less about the mechanics of it. You didn’t _do_ anything to me, that’s not what this is about. I wish you treated yourself with an ounce of the respect that I have for you.” Kakashi doesn’t look like he believes him, but Naruto presses on. “I’ll admit this is all a little fucked up. I know you think that, and maybe we went about it ass-backwards, but the way I feel about this, about you, it’s not for lack of trying. Before all this, we were already halfway there.”

In a perfect world, they would have continued existing in their impeccably defined roles. Kakashi would have remained his mentor and Naruto would have stayed his precious student, an impenetrable dynamic that neither of them would’ve crossed. In this world, Naruto could still believe the best in people and Kakashi would let him, as long as that meant shielding him from the truth. But they both know that’s not the world they live in. The world they live in is broken and flawed; it’s a world where even in a time of peace, there are people who seek to destroy it. Their world is cruel and lonely—it sends children to war, and into the beds of men.

“You don’t know what you want,” Kakashi mutters, though it sounds like he’s desperately trying to convince himself. Naruto knows that now.

“And I thought I was done letting people make my decisions for me.” He places his hand over Kakashi’s, stepping in, and closes the remaining distance between them.

**+++**

The one thing Naruto is grateful for in the month away, is how much time he had to reflect. Quiet, in the deep of the slumbering woods, his thoughts were more coherent, clearly defined against the sounds of a kindling fire. In the nights they took turns keeping watch, he would wander, not far, to an open spot beneath the towering trees, casting for a glimpse of the stars.

And he would think about how those were the same stars, same moon and sky—constant, irrespective of everything—and Kakashi might be looking up to the same view.

Now, he realizes what that meant. Whilst he was stacking his insecurities sky-high, Kakashi was here, doing the same.

“I like you,” he whispers, pressing a shy kiss to the corner of Kakashi’s lips. He feels Kakashi tremble but he doesn’t push Naruto away. “I think you like me too. Am I wrong?”

Kakashi turns his head just the slightest, fitting their lips together and he kisses Naruto, bringing heat and passion, and seemingly all the words between them left unsaid. He kisses with conviction, and there is nothing left to say, it’s enough.

“C’mere,” Kakashi mouths, kicking the front door shut behind them and pulling him closer still. “You’re drenched,” he states the obvious, but he’s licking into Naruto’s mouth now, working a clever tongue that elicits a soft sigh from Naruto. Gently, he maneuvers, pulling them towards the stairs and up to the bathroom.

Naruto’s starting to regain his senses now, and is distinctly aware of the wet traction from his clothes, would very much like to dry off. Kakashi must read his mind, because he dutifully helps Naruto strip, slipping warm hands over cool skin, lingering in his touch.

Naruto pulls too, brushing an inquiring hand to Kakashi’s hip, the hem of his shirt, and the man obliges.

The spray of the shower is warm, and Kakashi is warmer—long, lean body pressed against his beneath the steady stream. Naruto sucks a kiss to Kakashi’s neck, mouthing at the skin there, and delights in the soft sigh it evokes.

Pulling back, he watches for a moment, says again, “I really, really like you,” and _means_ it.

“I know,” Kakashi murmurs, reaching behind Naruto for the shampoo bottle and squeezing some of it onto Naruto’s head. He works it into Naruto’s hair, gently massaging his scalp until the shampoo foams and lathers. _Oh_ , Naruto realizes suddenly, these gestures are more than fond.

He lets Kakashi dip his head back against the water, rinsing the suds out of his hair, and reaches out for a kiss again, missing the contact even though they are already so close in this confined space. Kakashi huffs, conceding once, before moving onto the next task, handing Naruto the soap.

They make quick use of the shower; Kakashi washes his back with gentle pressure, kneading the space between his shoulder blades so that he arches into the touch. He’s definitely hard now, palming himself slowly to gain some friction. Kakashi is panting lightly behind him, fingers swift on his skin.

“Naruto,” Kakashi says his name into his shoulder, biting at the thin skin there. He turns Naruto around and then presses him against the cool, tiled wall. Giving no warning, Kakashi drops to his knees, fitting himself between the spread of his legs.

Naruto bites down a whine at the feel of Kakashi’s breath, hot over his hard member. He desperately wants the other man to touch him. Kakashi wraps a hand then, around his cock and asks on a cruel upstroke, “That night, did you sleep with him?” It sounds dangerously vulnerable, a masochistic hunt for confirmation when he already knows the answer.

“Yes,” Naruto hisses, bucking into the touch. “But I thought of you.”

He looks down at Kakashi who is watching him with a heated gaze, lips twisted into a wondering frown. “Why?” the man asks hoarsely. It’s almost hard to hear against the hiss of the water.

“I—” he tries to say, closing his eyes in an attempt to avoid the man’s piercing gaze. “I don’t think I could’ve. I wouldn’t have gone through with it otherwise.” The silence is deafening, or maybe it’s the sound of the shower in his ears, and he still doesn’t dare open his eyes. Kakashi makes a broken noise, and presses a kiss to Naruto’s inner thigh, his sharp teeth grazing sensitive skin.

“Fuck,” Naruto curses, bracing his hands back against the wall in an effort to keep his knees from buckling. Kakashi is anything but cruel, he fits his lips over the head of Naruto’s swollen member and gives.

It is nothing but wet heat inside Kakashi’s mouth, and Naruto feels himself hit the back of the man’s throat. He reaches out, bringing his hands to Kakashi’s head and tangles his fingers in his hair, holding him there in an effort not to thrust. Kakashi bobs his head expertly, alternating swirls of his tongue at each rise. He pins Naruto’s hips with an arm, grounding him, and with his other hand, he reaches below, cupping Naruto’s balls gently.

Naruto hears himself gasp, a broken sob, partially muted in the spray of water. He pleads, legs trembling in the effort to support his own weight against the ministrations of Kakashi’s touch. Kakashi pulls back with a lewd pop, sliding a finger, and two through the slick mixture of pre-cum and spit where his mouth was. He looks at Naruto in quiet askance, and Naruto feels himself nod, “Please,” on his lips.

The man nudges one of Naruto’s legs, spreading him a little wider, and reaches behind him. Tracing a slick finger over Naruto’s puckered entrance, he presses in slow. It’s not immediate pleasure, uncomfortable in its pressure inside him. He feels Kakashi wrap his lips around his cock again, taking him in deep, a gracious distraction—and a second finger that has him squirming away if not for the hand on his hip. Kakashi hums around his cock, and Naruto feels the vibrations through his body the same moment Kakashi crooks his fingers inside him, spiking sharp, hot pleasure up his spine.

Keyed into Naruto’s reaction, Kakashi massages the spot inside him, twisting his fingers there and it’s overwhelmingly good, framed against the sensations of a wet, tight heat around him. It’s not long after, he cries out, coming without warning down Kakashi’s throat.

And Kakashi sucks him through it, until he’s trembling from overstimulation, drawing back and applying one last tight-lipped pull around the tip of his member. He stands so that they’re eye-to-eye again and Naruto’s breath catches. With his hair in wet disarray, lips dark and bruised, Kakashi is a dream.

“Woah there,” Kakashi chuckles, reaching out to steady him as Naruto’s knees buckle. He holds him up and presses a soft kiss to Naruto’s mouth, and Naruto can taste himself.

“That was— thank you,” he stutters between breaths, reeling Kakashi back in for another heartfelt kiss. His legs feel wobbly, spine curling pleasantly still.

“Let me,” he says, noticing for the first time that Kakashi is hard too.

He kisses away any oncoming protests from the older man, nipping shyly at his lower lip. Nimbly, he reaches for Kakashi’s erection, palming it experimentally. The act is familiar, but ultimately different from touching himself. The sensations aren’t there, no certainty of knowing if it’s good or not. The only indications are the soft, broken moans, whispered encouragement to his temple. His hand gains rhythm, sliding easily now through the initial friction. He hears Kakashi curse, bucking into the tight ring of his hand, and he reaches up to grip Naruto’s shoulder, steadying himself.

Naruto cards his fingers through Kakashi’s hair, vaguely aware that the skin on his fingers are pruning from the moisture. The glass around them has fogged up, steam rising in the air. So he quickens his pace, breaking rhythm with a couple twists of his hand, and Kakashi comes with a muffled groan.

He waits for the other man to catch his breath, nosing gently at his cheek. “Alright?” he murmurs, half-lidded and a little delirious from the heat of the shower.

Kakashi nods, pressing him gently into the spray again. “Let’s finish up here,” he offers.

They clean in silence, sharing the space in surprising tandem. Toweling off, Kakashi hands him a spare toothbrush from the cabinet, squeezing a generous dollop of toothpaste onto the bristles. They brush their teeth together, and it’s an out-of-body experience, strangely domestic. Naruto follows Kakashi into the bedroom, eagerly towards the bed. The sheets are cool and soft beneath him, and he sinks into them, already half asleep. He feels Kakashi pull the blanket loosely over his legs, to where it’s low on his hips in an act of decency, and he reaches out instinctively.

This time, he’s sure, when he feels an arm wrap around his shoulders, moving him in close, the embrace is comforting, safe, and entirely meant for him.

**( you feel it too )**

Naruto wakes from a deep sleep, stretching into consciousness with a contented yawn. It’s early yet, but the sun filters in unabashedly; they’d forgotten to draw the blinds.

Kakashi is awake too, quiet in the early morning light. “Hey,” he greets, “Did you sleep alright?”

Naruto nods, shifting into the space between them, to get closer. “Yes, you?”

The smile that Kakashi gives him is soft and fond, crinkling the corners of his eyes. Naruto thinks he could watch him for a long time and not grow tired of it.

“What now?” Naruto asks, practically purring at the feel of Kakashi’s hand in his hair, scritching lightly at his scalp.

“What, do I make you breakfast?” Kakashi jests in a teasing tone. The expression on his face, however, is thoughtful, and Naruto knows he must be wondering it too. “I don’t know,” he finally answers. “I’ve spent the better half of my life avoiding this part.” He says, honest, “You’re not what I would’ve expected.”

Naruto rolls his eyes, because that’s stating the obvious. They’re a mismatched pair if there were any—too old, too young, unnatural—he can already hear the hushed whispers of gossip behind their backs. Faceless strangers with too much stake in their lives—everyone has an opinion. He’s vaguely aware of the villagers’ wishes, how Hokage-sama should settle down soon, with a nice woman from a humble, well-to-do family, make babies. And heaven forbid, the Rokudaime with the son of Yondaime. It just wouldn’t sit right with the people’s conscience.

“Sensei is probably rolling over in his grave,” Kakashi muses out loud, timely. He’s still smiling, too sweet, and too fond, hardly caring.

“Yes,” Naruto casually agrees, “Though, I think it’s my mom you should be worried about.”

“Red hot habanero, Kushina,” Kakashi mutters, reminiscing, “Ah, she’d have a bone to pick with me, indeed.”

It seems silly now, the culmination of events that brought them here. The man before him, sharing space and a bed with him, is someone who knew Naruto’s parents. This is a man who misses his former teammates so much that he’s actually late to important engagements because he loses track of time chatting with gravestones. Sometimes his actions are questionable (reading _Icha Icha Paradise_ before a group of twelve year olds) and other times stupidly noble, to the point where it’s infuriating. 

This is someone that has witnessed Naruto’s formative years, shared in his grief and loss, and carried him on his back when Naruto couldn’t walk (both literally and figuratively). Kakashi has watched him undergo pain and hardship, and he bet on him overcoming it each time. In the latter years, he committed to helping Naruto train to be a better ninja, teaching him patience and humility even when Naruto was being impossible—a dependable, enduring presence.

Between the two of them, they have an impressive collection of doubt and insecurities, broken in by a sense of duty and undying loyalty to their village. And Naruto knows theirs won’t be an ordinary romance, if it is _that_ at all. They fell into something tumultuous and unlikely and forbidden, susceptible to the eye of public scrutiny. But he also knows he’s found something rare, a natural progression to their dynamic that could possibly withstand a lot. In any case, he knows with absolute certainty that he’s endured a lot worse—harsher words, crueler rumors—and then, he’d done it alone.

“What now,” Kakashi repeats thoughtfully, though there’s certainty to his words. “Well, I want this,” he says, definitively, “I want you.”

And it’s enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sigh, I would love to write a companion fic where we get Kakashi's perspective, but idk, we'll see haha.
> 
> Stay safe out there!


End file.
